


Come, walk within my garden

by m3aculpa



Series: Dead Boy's Poem [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: glee_kink_meme, F/M, Minor Violence, Non Consensual, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-16
Updated: 2011-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-24 01:01:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/257102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m3aculpa/pseuds/m3aculpa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wouldn't hit her, she knew. No matter what she did, he wouldn't hit a girl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come, walk within my garden

**Author's Note:**

> _**Glee fic: Come, walk within my garden (Rachel/Kurt)**_  
>  **Title:** Come, walk within my garden  
>  **Fandom:** Glee **  
> Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Characters/Pairings:** Rachel, Kurt, Rachel/Kurt  
>  **Warnings:** Non-con, strap-on, Rachel being the aggressor, season 1-compliant up to Sectionals (I haven't seen season 2)  
>  **Word count:** 2092 words  
>  **Prompt:** Written for [this](http://community.livejournal.com/glee_kink_meme/1414.html?thread=6576774#t6576774) prompt at the [](http://community.livejournal.com/glee_kink_meme/profile)[**glee_kink_meme**](http://community.livejournal.com/glee_kink_meme/) : _G!P or Strap-on!Rachel rapes Kurt.  
>  No happy ending._  
>  **Summary** : He wouldn't hit her, she knew. No matter what she did, he wouldn't hit a girl.  
>  **a/n:** There will be a sequel - it's written, but I hate it so I need to tweak it a little.  
> 

He wouldn’t hit her, she knew. In an age where chivalry had almost died out, he still clung to the ideal that you’d never ever hit a girl. So Kurt wouldn’t hit her no matter what she did to him. And she wanted to do things to him. She wanted _him_ ; he was too pretty for a guy and his superior attitude made him more attractive to her (and more desirable to knock down a peg or two).

  
Her desires made her feel ashamed. It made her sink to the level of the women her dads would talk about sometimes with utmost contempt; the women that believed that you were only a gay man because you hadn’t met the right woman yet. That they could convert you.

But it wasn’t true. Not entirely. She knew that he was gay; that he liked men exclusively. She just wanted him anyway. Seeing the way his jeans hugged his butt made her hot and ashamed. It wasn’t anything she could help. And it wasn’t like she was going to act on it…

… was what she’d convinced herself early on. And she wouldn’t have, if it wasn’t for Quinn. Well, Quinn and Santana. Or rather their immediate acceptance of Kurt, while they still mocked and belittled her. They were teammates now; shouldn’t they treat her better?

She’d have to admit that it also had to do with the fact that Kurt wasn’t warming up anything to her. While he seemed to be the best of friends with Quinn and tolerant of Santana.

The trap was easy to set. Easier than she had expected. Finn was adorable and he hadn’t even questioned why she wanted her books on top of the lockers, where she wouldn’t be able to reach. It was also on the route Kurt commonly took on his way from French. The hallway was almost utterly empty and there would be no jocks waiting for him.

She stood on her tiptoes and strained to reach the books. She clasped a huge edition of Sondheim’s music to her chest. Her fingertips touched the edge of the locker when she heard footsteps. She glanced to the side and of course it was Kurt.

“Kurt,” she exclaimed with acted relief and some fake tears of frustrations in her eyes. “Can you help me? Karofsky put my books on the locker and I can’t reach them.”

He sighed with his hand on his hip. The look he gave her was annoyed, but he did put his bag down and walk up to the locker. On some level, he did trust her enough not to question why she was in this hallway. Or he’d filled in with a logical explanation on his own. He turned his back on her. Her hands felt clammy. Not very attractive, she thought as she shifted her grip on the book. She closed her eyes, apologised to Sondheim and swung.

It connected with the back of his head and sent his forehead crashing into the locker. She didn’t hear a crunch, so she assumed she hadn’t broken his nose. A hand reached up to touch the back of his head with a soft sound of pain before he crumpled to the ground. The books crashed down, off the side of the locker, as he apparently had managed to unbalance them.

Standing above his prone form, made it throb between her thighs. She bit her lip to silence a gasp. The power of it… it was intoxicating. She almost couldn’t stand it. There was no way she could wait much longer, so she bent down and grabbed hold of him. She was much stronger than most people gave her credit for and it wasn’t far to the classroom she knew was always left unlocked by Brenda Castle. She dragged him inside.

Turning him over, she realised that he was unconscious. But she wouldn’t take any chances. Efficiently she stripped him off jacket, vest and shirt; leaving him naked from chest up. His skin was just as white as she’d imagined it, but it wasn’t unblemished. There were bruises all over his skin from dumpster dives and being shoved against lockers. She wanted to kiss each bruise better.

She reached over for her gym bag with the stuff she’d brought with her. She pulled out the furry, pink handcuffs she’d got at a shop. If it hadn’t been suitable for her purposes, she would have been appalled at how easy it was to get the gear she needed. But she wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Instead she locked one cuff around his slender wrist and looped it through the radiator, before cuffing the other. He was hanging from his wrists and it looked exceptionally uncomfortable. She almost felt bad for it.

His head had rolled to the side and back. His mouth was lax in his unconsciousness and she couldn’t resist. She bent down and pressed her lips against his. They were soft and pliant. She slid her tongue into his open mouth and probed every corner she could reach. He tasted vaguely of peppermint; maybe he’d been chewing gum. It gave her a secret thrill. Even if he was unconscious, she’d most likely stolen his first kiss. He’d be giving her a lot of his firsts today, actually.

She pulled out a ball gag regretfully from her bag. She’d like to kiss him again, when he was conscious, but she wouldn’t risk it. Slightly clumsily she managed to get the gag in position and the straps around his head. Very gently she made sure it wasn’t stuck in his hair. His hair was soft against her hand. Surprisingly soft. She thought it would have been sticky with product, but it wasn’t.

He’d sigh at the gag’s straps if he could have seen them. She’d had them custom-made pink with gold stars all over them. Maybe he would have liked them.

Quickly she left the room and got the dropped Sondheim book, as well as the others. It wouldn’t do for people to find them and get suspicious. She scurried back into the room and this time locked the door behind her. The vision that met her was that Kurt had stirred again. He turned his head slightly in confusion. Not looking at her, though, rather staring at the cuffs. He began to pull at them, trying to twist away. He struggled so violently, she thought that he might hurt himself. But then he slumped in the restraints.

She left the books on a desk and walked over to him. His eyes were unfocused, so she guessed that he was concussed. Her arms reached around her and deftly she unbuttoned his jeans. The zipper went down with some reluctance; he was moving and trying to kick her. She was between his legs, though, so it didn’t work out that well. It was hard work getting his jeans off of him; they were so tight! How could he stand it?

He tried to kick her when she pulled his jeans and briefs over his feet. But he missed by a mile. She slid her hands over his thighs. It made her moan. It was so soft. She pressed her crotch against his backside and started to play with his nipples. She twisted and massaged them until they were hard against her hands. His body was moving beneath hers, trying to buck her off. But she pinched a nipple harshly as punishment, telling him to stay still. How dare he ruin this for her?

She was Rachel Berry. She got what she wanted. And she wanted him.

Her hands slid down his chest and down the flat expanse of his stomach. It was both shocking and thrilling to find hard, defined muscle there. She’d expected the concave flatness of a model. Not this. She slid further down and cupped his soft cock in her hand. It twitched, hardened slightly in her hand. She started to tentatively slide her hand up and down. He shuddered beneath her. She pumped until he was hot and heavy in her hand. Those shudders came with increasing frequency. There was muffled, anguished sound and what could have been a sob.

She leant to the side slightly and looked him in the face. His face was scrunched up and his eyes were screwed shut. He was crying. Instead of making her feel ashamed, it made her even hotter. Her panties were drenched and it hurt not to touch herself.

She moved away and pulled her panties down mid-thigh. She didn’t want to get undressed entirely. It felt more tantalising and forbidden if she was almost entirely dressed. She reached into her bag and pulled out a strap-on and lube. Holding these items made her throb in need. She wanted to dominate him, to take him.

She slid her wet panties off and the latex panties on. It was a bit more awkward getting the smaller dildo inside of her than she expected. But she gritted her teeth and pushed until the latex panties were snug against her. It looked ridiculous to have that huge dildo sticking out in front of her, but it also gave her a thrill. She saw his smooth backside presented up to her and she wanted to fuck him immediately. But she wasn’t heartless. It was his first time, after all.

She grabbed the lube and ran a hand over his buttocks. She squeezed the right one. It was warm and firm in her hand. He tried to twist away from her, but she wouldn’t let him. Instead she screwed open the tube and drenched her fingers with lube. She went a little too quickly; barely letting him get used to the first finger before adding a second, then a third… She twisted her fingers and spread them slightly. She probed in search of his prostate while his insides clamped down on her fingers.

The dildo moved and made the inner one move as well. She moaned and decided that he was ready. She lubed up the thing quickly and pushed. He was tense and resistant, but she wouldn’t give in. Inch by agonising inch she slid in. She heard muffled cries from beneath the gag, but the feeling of having him at her mercy was too much.

It took her a few tries to get the hang of how to work her muscles to thrust inside of him. But when she did, she began pounding away. He was quivering and shaking beneath her. But he was still half-hard when she reached around for his dick. She took it in her hand and yanked to her thrust. He bucked up when she hit his prostrate and she aimed heavy, punishing thrusts there.

He twitched and spilled his seed all over her hand. It made her come, that she had made him come. She smeared his cum over his stomach with a breathless, aroused laugh. But she wouldn’t stop thrusting until her thighs burned and she felt as if she’d run a marathon. She gripped his hips and pulled them in place, so that she could keep pounding into it. Only when her thighs quivered in exhaustion did she pull out.

He collapsed onto the ground when she let go off his hips, pulling his legs in beneath him. He curled up as well as he could against the radiator. He was shaking and crying. It didn’t touch her. She removed the strap-on and the sweaty latex panties that were sticky with her cum. Flitting around the room, she efficiently began cleaning away all evidence. The books went down in the bag and she unbuckled the gag. She could now hear his breathless sobs and she felt triumphant. He’d been taken down a peg or two after all. He didn’t try to scream or call for help. Instead he turned his head away in shame.

She slipped the gag into her bag. Grabbing hold of his hair, she kissed him violently. He kept his eyes closed and tried to turn away from her. She didn’t let up until she’d fucked his mouth with her tongue. Only then did she uncuff him. He slid down with a weak cry of pain and curled up on the floor. She saw now that she had torn him slightly. He was bleeding.

She shook off her conscience. She’d wanted him, so she’d taken him – it was as simple as that.

Rachel Berry left Kurt Hummel crumpled on the floor of the classroom.

 

  



End file.
